


Power and Control

by LittleMissPixieStix



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 19:52:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5797627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissPixieStix/pseuds/LittleMissPixieStix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Medic prided himself as a man who was always in control, whether it was just the situation, his actions, or his emotions, he was always in control.</p><p>Or, at least, he thought he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power and Control

**Author's Note:**

> You can find this fic on tumblr here: http://littlemissfemscout.tumblr.com/post/137890986087/power-and-control-nsfw  
> Likes and reblogs are appreciated, but by no means required. =)
> 
> Also, I don't speak French. I'm relying on Google translate for this, so if you see any errors, please let me know nicely. Besides, what Spy's saying isn't not that important anyway. =)

Medic prided himself as a man who was always in control, whether it was just the situation, his actions, or his emotions, he was always in control.

Or, at least, he thought he was.

But when Spy would stride into his office, tug at Medic’s blue tie so that the man had to look at him, and steal a kiss despite the German being clearly occupied with paperwork, it made the man think afterward.

Or when the Frenchman would approach Medic from behind while he was doing inventory, quietly talking and asking about Medic’s doves while his hands roamed Medic’s torso and his lips decorated the German’s neck, the man would pause afterward and contemplate what just happened.   

Was he really in control of anything?  Or did he just like to think he was?

He had been wondering all day while he worked, before and after any distractions his team mates brought before him, and the question was still on the forefront of his mind as the sun set.

To distract himself, because otherwise he was going to just keep mentally arguing with himself, he went to his quarters.  He’d find something else to do there, whether it was for him to read a book, just do more work, or maybe find a way into his bed, he’d find something.

Not long after he settled in his chair, eyes only scanning the pages of his medical textbook, his door open and shut all by itself.  Or, at least, that’s what it would look like to the average viewer.

“Hello, Spy,” Medic greeted, set on finishing his page before he looked for the invisible man, “Could have thought to knock first, perhaps?”

“Apologies,” Spy said as he uncloaked, though, most likely, he didn’t mean them.  He waltzed in here all of the time, as if he owned the place.  Medic started to wonder if he actually did.

“Consider it next time,” Medic said coolly.  He was going to remain in control of this situation here, no matter what happened.

“Certainly,” Spy said, leaning against Medic’s chair, “Is that a good read?”

“Good enough.”

“Ah, so not the best,” Spy said, sitting on the arm of the chair, “Can I offer you a different form of entertainment perhaps?”

“Perhaps after this chapter,” Medic said, looking up to offer Spy what could be considered a cocky grin, “We’ll see.”

He was keeping control of the situation and he was staying in charge.  He could do this.

“Surely you’ve read this book before,” Spy purred, hands slipping over the Medic’s broad shoulders, teasing as he began to knead at the tense muscles, “Believe it or not, _Doctuer,_ bone structure in humans does not change.  Not unless you’re the one at the controls.”

“There’s no reason for me not to review.” Medic argued, trying to pay Spy’s hands no mind.

“You look inside and repair bodies day after day, what more review do you need?” Spy asked, grinning to himself when his fingers started on a tense knot of muscles.

“Would you rather have a doctor that knows too much or too little?” Medic asked, a slight groan playing on his lips as Spy loosened up his shoulders.

“I’d rather have the doctor.” Spy said bluntly.

“Of course you would,” Medic scoffed, his words lacking the intended cold nature as Spy slowly rubbed the stiffness out of him.

“Can you blame me?” Spy asked, leaning in and letting his lips ghost against Medic’s ear.  One of his gloved hands moved up to the doctor’s neck.

“Should I?  Blame you for something, I mean.” Medic said, sighing as the Frenchman’s deft fingers worked and loosened the muscles there.  It felt so good.  He hadn’t known how tense he had been until now.

“ _Non_ , no,” Spy said, his voice a smooth whisper as his other hand trailed down around to the doctor’s front, “Just let me _have_ you.”

“Beg pardon?” Medic asked, doing his best to maintain his composure as Spy’s hand started on his shirt buttons, “It’s rude to presume that I’m just willing to bend over backwards for you.”

“The hope was that you would bend over forwards, actually.  Backwards would be quite a feat,” Spy said with a smile, helping to shift the shirt down Medic’s back, “But I can work with backwards if that’s what you desire, _ mon beau jouet? _”

“French?  I suppose you’re not expecting a reply to that then,” Medic said, “What I desire is to be in control this time.  That’s what I desire, Spy.”

“Is that all you want?” Spy asked, hand moving to play with the man’s thick hair, “That’s done easily enough.”

“Of course it is,” Medic said, “But if it’s not done this time then I’m afraid you must leave..”

The momentary frown on Spy’s face inspired a feeling of proud confidence in the Medic.  He had showed Spy up and it felt great.

"Would you perhaps consent to me kissing you?” Spy asked, throwing the word back at Medic, “Am I allowed to press my lips against you, oh mighty one?”

Medic decided to test this new-found power and see how far he could take it.

“No,” He said, garnering a raised eyebrow from Spy, “I’ll be kissing you where ever I want.”

“So be it,” Spy said with a shrug pulling his jacket off, hand sliding gently against his collar bone, “I suppose the question is, where do you want?”

Instead of answering, Medic pulled the Spy into his lap, relishing how the other man had to fight to stay balanced from the sudden movement.  He pulled the Spy’s shirt out of his way, and teased his lips against the Frenchman’s soft skin, peppering his collar with kisses.  

Watching Spy melt into the touches elicited a grin on the Medic’s face.  Taking control and having this power over someone else was addictive. He wouldn’t mind doing it more.

Spy’s hand started to trail down the German’s chest, reaching Medic’s belt before the German stopped his advance.  With a smirk, Medic instead started to undo Spy’s belt, not bothering to pause his lipservice.  He wouldn’t let Spy get the upper-hand by going underhand, but he was more than happy to keep things in his favor.

“Enjoying yourself?” Spy asked, contenting himself by stroking the Medic’s broad chest.

“Mmm, yes,” He replied, his kisses trailing lower down to Spy’s pecs as he undid the man’s shirt.  As the scarred skin became revealed, a kiss was lovely bestowed on it.  Hearing Spy’s breathing speed up, and feeling the man shift in his lap, Medic let out a happy hum as he mouthed a nipple

Oh, Medic was enjoying himself.  Being able to have control like this was intoxicating.

His hand slipped into Spy’s pants, gripping the other man’s behind, giving a tight squeeze to the soft, though muscular, flesh he found there, kisses trailing lower.  The Frenchman’s hand moved to pull his pants up somehow, giving the fabric a futile tug, before Medic moved his hand aside.

Spy slowly leaned forward to whisper into the Medic’s ear, his breath shaking as the hand started to slowly slid his pants off.

“Are you ever going to permit me to to touch you?” Spy asked, daring to ghost his lips on the outer shell of Medic’s ear and to briefly caress the growing bulge in Medic’s pants.

“Mmm, not yet.” was the reply that Spy received.

With a grin, the hand that was on Spy’s ass moved around to the front, thumb stroking at the hip bone that was sharply jutting out of Spy’s thin frame.  The Frenchman’s hips gave a jump, and, as Medic’s hand trailed lower, he gave a happy groan. 

Medic pulled the underwear lower, out of his way, and teased the head of Spy’s shaft with his thumb.  As his masked head rolled back, back arching into the touch, Medic felt so proud to be the one in control for once.  

Having someone else bend to your will was so very enjoyable.

“S-Suck, _mon beau jouet? Tes lèvres me sentent merveilleuses,_ ” Spy gasped, breathing quickly as he fought to speak coherently, “Will, ah, Will you let me blow you?”

“No.” Medic told him, pushing the smaller man upright, “I’ll be the one blowing you.”

As he guided Spy back to his bed, a thought was in the back of Medic’s head.  Why was he the one getting down on his knees?

Ah, then he realized why.  He needed to do this so that he could the upper-hand.  If he was lost in the feeling of pleasure, then he wasn’t focused on keeping control here.

That was easily seen as he wrapped his lips around Spy’s tip.  His tongue teased the slit before he took the whole thing in, easing Spy’s shaft  in slowly so he didn’t gag.  Looking up, Medic felt ecstatic.  Spy’s eyes were shut tight, hips rocking gently wit the pace Medic set.  His gloved hand slid south, gripping Medic’s hair and holding him close before the doctor swatted him off, much to Spy’s annoyance. 

He was in control, thank you very much, and he was going to keep it that way, even if he had to fight a bit for it.

The German worked his tongue around the shaft, hands pulling Spy’s pants down.  Once Spy complied, and they were off, Medic started to massage Spy’s inner thighs, kneading and stroking gently as he kept his mouth busy.

From the position Medic was in, and the place he had access to, he knew of five different ways to kill a man.  He also knew of quite a few ways to pleasure one. 

Pleasuring others, especially when he knew about those little used erogenous zones that could cause a man to melt, was something that he enjoyed immensely.  He didn’t know how to describe it, but he knew that it felt so right, which was probably because of the power that he held right now

When he heard Spy’s pants and moans increase, unknown French terms slipping out of his mouth, Medic pulled off, a trail of saliva all that connected his mouth to Spy’s prick.  A smile light up the German’s face, an expression that grew when he saw how red-faced the Spy was.

Spy wasn’t getting off that easy.  He would rather toy with him longer.  The man was going to last before Medic gave up the power he had argued for with Spy tonight.  

He was going to be his best to ensure that he lasted.  Despite how primal lovemaking could be, a fair amount of logic and thought had to be poured into this.  Every action had to be guided, precise, if he wanted this to go his way.

Power and control like this didn’t come that easily after all.

“Are you going to leave me like this?” Spy asked, the throbbing between his legs becoming quite demanding for attention..

“It is quite a wonderful sight,” Medic told him, taking a moment to look the man over while staying in his knees, “I wouldn’t mind leaving you like this for a bit, no.”

“Would me asking for pity help?” Spy asked, fighting the urge to deal with his hard-on himself, “Would threatening do any better?”

“No, not really,” Medic said, drinking in how undone the Frenchman seemed, “I wish you could see yourself.”

“I can imagine what I look like, I’ve see you in the position enough,” Spy said quickly through gritted teeth, managing somehow to keep his breath and tone even, “Haven’t you looked long enough yet?”

“I suppose I have,” Medic said as he slowly stood up, more encouraged by his own erection than Spy’s words.  He had let the other suffer long enough.  Besides, not pushing it too far would be a good start if Medic wanted to do it like this again with Spy.  

Though the man was in control, he did wonder if his prick was giving more orders than his brain was.

Medic stood, his broad frame overtaking Spy’s narrower one as he leaned in for a kiss.  One hand was placed next to Spy, to help with his balance, and the other moved to undo his belt and remove his pants.  While his tongue probed further into Spy’s mouth, his hand stroked himself, getting him more ready for the next logical step.

“Is it time for the sex yet?” Spy asked as the kiss between them was broken, the man’s thinner arms holding on to the Medic’s shoulders.

“Mmm hmm, yes,” The other man replied, stepping out of his fallen trousers.

“Do you want me to bend over, _mon beau jouet?_ ” Spy asked him.

“Bend over?” Medic asked while climbing into the bed with the man, “No, no.  I will be.”

“Are you certain?” Spy asked, getting behind the German while he talked.

“Yes.” Medic said, his words hindered by a heavy groan as he felt Spy enter him from behind, the man already slicked well with spit, “Yeeeesss.”

This time was harder to convince himself that he was still in control, especially since he was on the bottom.  

But he had chosen this position, which meant something.  It would mean even more if he kept control while he was here.

Yes, that was it.  

He put himself in the weaker position so that it would show just how much power he had here, by keeping it even while his behind was busy getting pounded deliciously hard by his lover.

Knowing that he was in control was all he needed.

A groan was elicited out of the German as Spy found his sweet spot.  His body tensed, arching back into the sensation. The sheets were gripped tightly, clenched in Medic’s balled fists, a sign that he was either fighting to keep his composure or that he had already lost it.  

The fight was real.  It was a struggle to keep things they way he wanted them.  It would be a fight that he was going to win though.  He already had the upper hand, or if he didn’t, he was close.

Spy’s smaller frame slowly draped over Medic’s back, a hand on the bed and the other wrapped around the German as he found a sense of balance.

“Is this how you wanted it,  _mon beau jouet?_ ” Spy asked, his voice a groan of its former smooth self.

“Ah, yes, yes,” The other man gasped, “This is- mmm, just how I wanted it..”

“Do I have permission to help you?” Spy asked, teeth scraping against Medic’s ear, “I imagine that you’re quite hard at this point and would appreciate a helping hand.”

“Please,” Medic groaned, his facade of composure already starting to crack, “Please.”

“Of course, as you wish,” Spy replied in a sharp whisper, a hand already wrapping around the man’s shaft, “You _are_ the one in control here.”

Conversation died down into the usual cacophony of passion, with gasps and groans smothered under shouts and and bouts of silence when the only noise to be heard was the romantic slap of skin on skin.

The melody of arousal didn’t last long.  With Spy both pounding him from behind and stroking him in the front, which was what he had wanted, just what he had wanted - Medic soon came, shuddering in pleasure as the white hot feeling took him over.  Spy experienced his own orgasm not long after.

With a groan, Spy pulled out of the other man, flopping over to his side.  Medic tiredly flipped over to look at his lover.

“Was it good?” Spy asked, “Being in control, I mean.  The sex part is always good.”

“Yes.  It was,” Medic replied, sleep already threatening to overtake him, “We should do it like that again sometime.”

“We should?” Spy asked, slipping an arm around the other man, “Well, then, we should.”

His reply got a happy smile from Medic, and that smile stayed lightly on his face as he drifted off to sleep.  The man seemed to be very pleased about the idea of being in control again.

With a smile of his own, Spy reached over and gently stroked at the mussed hair on Medic’s head.  

The poor dear, delirious always.

Well, if it would make Medic happy, then Spy would let him think that.

If the German had had enough focus to think back over their “session” together, then he would have realized that everything he did had been ordered from Spy, either verbally or otherwise, and perhaps he did not have as much control as he liked to think he did. 

But there was no reason to let him think otherwise, not yet.  He liked this arrangement too much.  Besides that, it had taken a long time to get his level of control up to this point.  Small sessions of subtle manipulation, taking time to groom and mold the man with small visits.

At first, it had been a game, an experiment born of boredom, but now it was addictive.  Power and control like this always was as enjoyable and intoxicating as a fine wine.  

The wine he chose to drink was just of the German variety, aged forty-two years, and he planned on enjoying every drop until the bottle was dry.

Medic prided himself as a man who was always in control, whether it was just the situation, his actions, or his emotions, he was always in control. 

But was he really in control of anything?  

Spy liked to let Medic think he was.


End file.
